It had only been ten minutes since he’d returned with the rabbits, and they were already roasting over the fire. The tantalizing smells had brought most of the camp running toward the campfire, where they now stood waiting, their eyes wide and hungry.
They reminded Bellamy of the youngest kids at the care center, who had approached him every time he returned from one of his foraging trips, hoping he’d found them something to eat. But he’d never been able to feed all of them, just as he wasn’t able to feed all of them now.
“You only brought two?” Lila asked, trying to exchange a disdainful look with her friend Tamsin, a reedy blond girl who struck Bellamy as a quieter, and somehow even stupider, version of Lila. A week ago, they, along with a few of the other girls, had cut their standard-issue gray pants into shorts of varying lengths, ignoring Clarke’s warning that they’d regret it once the weather changed.
And now they did. They were both shivering, though Lila was doing her best to hide it. Tamsin just looked miserable.
“Good counting, Lila,” Bellamy said slowly, as if praising an accomplished toddler. “You’ll make it all the way to ten soon.”
Lila narrowed her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. “You’re an asshole, Bellamy.”
“Ever hear the saying ‘Don’t bite the hand that feeds you’?” he shot back with a grin. “Or, why don’t I put it to you this way? There are two rabbits, as you so astutely pointed out, and there are way more than two of us.” Ninety-three to be exact, though no one needed to be reminded of the fact that they had already lost so many members of their group. “Not everyone is going to get a bite. And you just made that decision a little easier for me. So, thank you.” He extended his hand as if offering it to Lila to shake. “I’m very grateful for your help.”
She smacked his hand away and spun on her heel, tugging on the uneven edges of her shorts as she strode away. Typical Wal-ditz, Bellamy thought, using the term Octavia had coined for the girls on Walden who purposefully acted like airheaded Phoenicians. But the thought of Octavia banished his smile, unlocking the ache he’d been trying to contain in his chest. God only knew what kind of suffering she was enduring right now, while Lila and the rest of her friends flounced around the camp in their short shorts.
Two Arcadian boys had taken charge of roasting the rabbits, which Eric and Priya had skinned. Bellamy was eager to get back to the infirmary and check on Clarke, but he knew that if he left now, the meat would have vanished by the time he returned. He didn’t need any for himself, but he wanted to make sure Clarke got a few bites. “There’s not nearly enough for everyone,” Priya was saying to Wells, who’d just returned from a trip to the stream. “How many protein packets do we have left?”
Wells frowned and shook his head, then leaned over to whisper something to Priya. They were obviously trying to be discreet, but at least twenty people were watching them nervously.
Bellamy thought of the days after they first landed, when the group was full of explosive, almost dangerous energy. Now exhaustion and hunger had made them far less talkative. Even the chatty faux-Phoenix girl, Kendall, was quiet as she stared at Wells and Priya, although the small smile on her face made her seem more amused than suspicious.
For a few minutes, the only sounds in the clearing were the crackle of the logs and the thud of wooden spears as they bounced off tree trunks and landed on the grass. The people Graham had recruited to his “security force” had been practicing all day, and even Bellamy had to admit some of them were getting pretty good. If they were as focused on hunting dinner as they were on imaginary Earthborns, then there was a chance the Colonists wouldn’t starve after all.
Kendall was the first to break the silence. “So, Wells, when’s the next dropship coming?” Bellamy snorted at her transparent attempt to lure Wells into a conversation. A number of girls had been paying a lot of attention to Chancellor Junior lately.
“Who cares?” Lila interjected as she rejoined the group, making a show of stretching her arms over her head. “I’m not in any rush to have guards around here, acting like they own the place.”
Bellamy silently agreed, although he’d never give Lila the satisfaction of saying it aloud. He had the most to lose of any of them. While his insane plan of posing as a guard had gotten Bellamy onto the hundred’s dropship, the Chancellor—Wells’s father—had been shot in the ensuing chaos, taking a bullet meant for Bellamy. Even if the other members of the mission were pardoned for their Infractions, Bellamy would be considered a criminal. For all he knew, the guards had orders to shoot him on sight.
“But the Council has to know it’s safe by now,” Kendall said, gesturing to the monitor on her wrist, the one that was meant to send vital signs back up to the ship.
“Safe?” Lila repeated with a bitter laugh. “Yeah, Earth seems real safe to me.”
“I meant the radiation levels,” Kendall said, shooting a look at Wells, clearly hoping he’d back her up. But he was just staring out into the trees. Something had caught his attention.
Bellamy jumped to his feet, grabbed his bow, and jogged over toward Wells. A triumphant cry filled the clearing, and Bellamy exhaled. It wasn’t the Earthborns. It was Graham.
He crashed through one of the bushes that grew near the tree line with a spear in one hand, and something dark and bulky in the other. Something dark, bulky, and furry. The bastard had actually killed something, Bellamy realized, not sure whether he was more relieved or annoyed. It would be great to have help hunting; he just wished it could’ve come from anyone besides Graham. “Look what I have,” he crowed, letting his kill fall to the ground with a thud.
“Graham, it’s still alive,” Priya said, stepping forward while the others backed away in fear and disgust.
She was right. The creature was twitching. It was larger than the rabbits Bellamy had brought back, but smaller than a deer. It had a long snout, slightly rounded ears, and a bushy, striped tail. He peered over for a closer look and saw that the creature was bleeding from a deep wound in its stomach. It would die eventually, but its death would be long and painful. Wells reached into his pocket and pulled out the small knife he always carried with him.
“You need to shoot it through the heart,” Bellamy said to Graham. “That way, it’s a clean kill, and the animal dies right away. Otherwise, slit its throat.”
Graham shrugged, as if Bellamy were chastising him for not closing the supply tent properly. “It’s a fox,” he said, nudging the animal with his toe.
“Actually, it’s a raccoon,” Bellamy said. At least, he thought it was. It looked similar to the raccoons he’d seen in photos, except this creature had something growing out of his head, something that glowed. A circle of light danced on the dark grass as the animal thrashed from side to side. It almost looked like it was wearing a headlamp, like the engineers used to repair the outside of the ship. Bellamy had a vague recollection of watching a video of a fish with a similar apparatus, a light it used to attract prey at the bottom of the ocean.
“Hold on. Were you hunting by yourself?” Lila asked, her voice a mixture of pride and censure. “What if the Earth people are still out there?”
“I hope they’re out there. I’ll make them wish they had gone extinct during the Cataclysm.” Graham laughed as he tossed his spear into the air and caught it one-handed. “We’ll be their Cataclysm.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Wells snapped, his patience evidently wearing thin. “There could be hundreds of them. Thousands. If it comes down to a real battle, we don’t stand a chance.”
Graham lifted his chin. “I think that all depends on who’s leading us, don’t you?” he said, his voice suddenly quiet. He and Wells stared at each other for a moment, then Graham broke away with a grin. “Now, who’s going to skin this thing? I’m starving.”
“Step one, wait until it’s actually dead,” Bellamy said. He looked over to Wells, who was still holding his pocketknife in his hand.
“It’s dead,” Kendall piped in cheerfully. She was crouched on the ground next to the raccoon. “I just broke its neck.”
Bellamy thought she was joking, but then he noticed that the creature was still and the strange glowing light had gone out. He turned to Kendall, slightly startled, but before he could ask where she’d learned to do that, the sound of footsteps pulled his attention toward the middle of the clearing.
Clarke was running toward them, dragging the Earthborn girl by the arm. “Guys!” she shouted, breathless. There was a light in her eyes Bellamy had seen only a few times before, when she encountered something new about Earth that set her scientist mind ablaze. “You’re not going to believe this!”
Everyone jumped to their feet, clustering around Clarke and the girl. “What is it?” Bellamy asked.
Clarke’s eyes darted to him, before turning to the prisoner. “Tell them,” Clarke urged her. “Tell them what you told me.”
So, he thought, the girl did understand English.
It was the first time most of the group had seen the girl since they’d captured her. Some were staring at her in fascination, jostling their neighbors for a closer look, while others backed away nervously. Bellamy noticed that Wells had quietly returned to the campfire and was watching Clarke and the Earthborn girl with interest.
The girl said nothing, her eyes wide with fear as she surveyed the crowd. “It’s okay, Sasha,” Clarke prodded.
Sasha? Bellamy bristled. Clarke knew her name? What the hell had happened while he’d been out hunting?
Sasha cleared her throat, and the whispers that had been rising up from the crowd vanished. “I… I told Clarke that you’re not the first group to come down from the Colony.”
A stunned silence descended over the clearing. “That’s impossible,” Wells said, stepping forward. “How would you even know?”
Sasha’s face hardened, and she raised her chin to look directly into Wells’s eyes. “Because,” she said, her voice calm, “I met them.”
The group erupted in chaos, everyone muttering their own theories and fears all at once. Wells put his fingers to his lips and whistled sharply, an uncomfortable reminder of the painful years Bellamy and his mother spent hiding Octavia from the guards. A whistle had been her signal to hide. Finally, the group quieted down. “You met other people from the Colony?” Wells prompted, clearly skeptical.
“Yes. I knew them. We let them live with us after their ship crashed.” Sasha gestured toward the remains of the hundred’s charred dropship. “You people haven’t really figured out graceful landings, have you?”
Bellamy couldn’t take this anymore. “Why don’t you save the history lesson for later and tell me where I can find my sister?”
“I don’t know anything about your sister,” Sasha replied. “I’m sorry.”
“We’re not idiots, you know.” Bellamy saw Clarke flashing him a look of warning, but he ignored it. “You killed Asher, and you took my sister. You’d better start talking, now.”
“Bellamy, let her finish,” Wells said, sounding more like the Chancellor than he had any right to. He turned back to Sasha. “Just tell us what happened,” he went on in a gentler voice.
Sasha shot a quick glance at Clarke, who nodded encouragingly. “Another group came down, a little over a year ago. They lost most of their supplies when they crashed. We took them in.”
“How many people were there?” Graham asked, surveying Sasha suspiciously.
“Ten. Although only seven survived the crash.”
“And how many of them did you shoot through the neck?” Graham added under his breath, but loud enough for everyone to hear.
Sasha flinched, but continued. “Everything was okay at first, though it was strange having new people around. The rest of us have known each other our whole lives, and it was our first time meeting outsiders. But we did our best to make them feel welcome.” Her face darkened, and her voice grew cold. “They didn’t treat us with the same courtesy, so they had to leave.”
Something in her tone ignited Bellamy’s anger. “What the hell does that mean?” he snapped. He was sick of this girl and her vague responses. “Where are they?”
She took a deep breath. “They’re dead.”
“Dead?” Wells repeated, momentarily losing his composure as murmurs rose up from the crowd. “All of them?”
Sasha nodded.
Murderers, Bellamy thought. The Earthborns were insane killers. They’d shot Asher without warning. He shuddered as the thought he’d been trying to suppress for days rose to the surface: What if Octavia was already dead? He clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms. If he didn’t get her back, he was going to make every single one of them pay. With their lives.
“So what, you killed them?” Graham asked. “And since that wasn’t enough, you decided to kill Asher too?”
“No, that’s not what happened. We—”
But Graham cut her off, turning to Wells with a sneer. “It’s not too late to kill her, you know.”
“Will you just listen?” Clarke said angrily. “She says they didn’t kill Asher!”
“Then who did?” Bellamy demanded. It took every ounce of his willpower not to shout the question at Clarke. Why the hell was she taking the Earthborn girl’s side?
“None of us ever thought another group would come down. But then you arrived.” Sasha looked between Clarke and Wells, as if it had been their idea to come down to this goddamn planet. “There was all this arguing, and fighting, and then a faction of us split off. They’re the ones who killed your friend.” She pressed her lips together and turned to Bellamy. “I bet they’re the ones who took your sister too.”
“So where are they?” he challenged.
“I wish I knew. None of us have seen them since they took off. You’ve seen them more recently than I have. But the rest of us aren’t like that.”
“And why should we believe you?” Graham asked with a sneer. A chorus of agreement rose among the others. “There are ways of finding out if she’s telling the truth.”
“Cut it out, Graham,” Wells snapped, stepping forward to stand between Graham and the girl. “Clarke, take Sasha back to the infirmary and keep an eye on her until we figure out what to do.”
“I know what to do,” Bellamy interrupted, anger and frustration beginning to boil dangerously in his blood. “We grab our weapons and go after the bastards who took Octavia.”
“Don’t!” Sasha said, her voice suddenly shaky. “They’ll kill you. There are a lot more of us than there are of you.”
“So we’ll bring you with us, as leverage.” Graham pushed past Wells and grabbed Sasha’s arm.
“Let go of her!” Clarke shouted. But Sasha didn’t need any assistance. In a single smooth move, she kneed Graham in the stomach, freed herself from his grasp, and twisted his arm behind his back.
“Don’t touch me,” she hissed. She released Graham and sent him stumbling forward, then staggered back a few steps herself, as if the act had required all her strength.
“Are you okay?” Clarke asked, taking Sasha’s elbow as the girl’s knees started shaking.
“How long has it been since you’ve eaten anything?” Wells asked.
“A while.”
When Bellamy saw Wells glance over his shoulder toward the fire, where the two rabbits were already being devoured, he bristled. “No way are you feeding her what I hunted,” he said to Wells, his voice cold.
“I agree,” Graham interrupted. “We’re not feeding that little bitch.” About three-quarters of the group nodded in agreement. The others were already busy fighting for the last scraps of meat clinging to the rabbits’ bones.
Before anyone had time to respond, a shriek rose up from the shadows on the far side of the campfire. Bellamy ran toward the sound, a dozen others at his heels. They all slammed into him as he skidded to a stop.
Tamsin stumbled into the clearing, then collapsed on the ground with a shriek. Blood gushed from a wound in her thigh, just below the jagged hem of her shorts.
“Holy shit,” said Graham, standing next to Bellamy, too stunned to do more than stare at the arrow sticking out of Tamsin’s leg.
As Clarke rushed over, Bellamy turned to look at the Earthborn girl. She was being held in place by a grave-faced Azuma and a sneering Dmitri, her eyes wide with horror as she looked from the injured girl to the shadowy forest. But Bellamy knew better than to be fooled by her act.
The next time blood was spilled in the camp, it was going to be hers.